


The Thrill of The Chase

by GayKinnie



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Conspiracy, Cop Rantaro, Crime Lord & Detective AU, Detective Ishimaru, Detective Kyoko Kirigiri, Drug reference, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Forsenic Scientist Chihiro, Gang Violence, Gay Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Ishimaru Kiyotaka-centric, Love/Hate, Mild Rantaro x Kiyotaka, Mondo's a perv, Mugging, Multi, Non-Despair AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Shady Dealings, Shady Officers, Violence, assualt, detective Shuichi, mafia, over-protective parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayKinnie/pseuds/GayKinnie
Summary: Ishimaru is a serious detective assigned to solve a series of robberies, only to stumble upon something much more tangled. As he grows closer with a flirty crime lord, it becomes harder to differentiate who is on the wrong side. Is he truly on the side of the right?
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Oma Kokichi, Hagakure Yasuhiro/Kuwata Leon, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo, Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg, Momota Kaito/Saihara Shuichi, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 23
Kudos: 134





	1. Fateful Encounters & Drunken Touch

The eyes haunted him.

They were the piercing eyes of a gaunt boy on 12th. The ones so empty and dull. The eyes that made guilt writhe in his gut and taunted him endlessly. He had never expected to see them again, much less with a gun to his head. Cruelty sparked within them and a sadist’s smile grew on his face. His red-headed lackey gave an annoyed sigh.

“Dammit another fucking newbie! They never learn, do they?”

The gun cocked and Ishimaru couldn’t help but note the sad undertone in the statement. Anger pulsed his veins. How dare someone so immoral, so wrong give him pity? The boy-though he suppose he had become a man- beheld Ishimaru with a shred of recognition. He held up his hand to the red-head, his eyes quickly slipping back into cruelty, and gave a mocking wink. 

“Nah. Let ‘im go. He couldn’t do shit being that scrawny and besides it’d be a shame for someone this pretty to die like this,” the man said, bringing his hands to Ishimaru’s cheeks. Heat rushed to his face and his gut rolled with embarrassment and rage. A panicked and flustered moment had him blurting out,

“Go to hell!”

The lackey pushed him to the ground and the men walked away, laughing. Blood rushed to his face as fire filled his veins. Cruelty and mockery. That’s what these criminals stood for. Shakily, he stood up and brushed off the dirt on his once-pristine white shirt. His palms and knees were already burning from the fall. 

Well, this was going to be much harder than he thought.

\---

The department was buzzing with unusual energy, even for a Friday. The chatter of weekend plans filled the humid department. Kiyotaka was the only silent one, lost in the lands of thought. Thoughts about that strange man. He had certainly filled out and had no longer looked near starvation, which was good he guessed. But that smirk. That stupid smug smirk he wore was nothing but terrible. Kiyotaka’s fist clenched as he thought about the overwhelming cockiness the purple-eyed boy exuded. He hated people like that, no matter what had happened to him Kiyotaka found his attitude unacceptable. He needed to be punished.

Of course, that meant Kiyotaka needed to catch him first.

Files upon files laid on his desk, some from dated nearly a decade back. Surely, there was _something_ in this mountain, something that led to Purple Eyes. He half-heartedly opened the oldest file. 10 years old, yet no resolution. With little evidence and no eye-witness accounts, it was the beginning of a series of perfect crimes. Ranging from robbery to murder, the one thing they have in common was their precision. Not so much as a skin cell left behind, baffling the entire department. Ishimaru frowned as he examined the fuzzy picture of the culprits, caught on the victims security cameras. They were capturing for about a minute before being covered with what looked like duct tape. Despite multiple officers reviewing it, no one could identify the teen boys. The detective played the tape and noticed an odd movement in the corner before the tape was applied. One of them, the smaller one by the looks of it, was sketching on the wall. The detective started vehemently flipping through the file, scanning for photos of the crime scene. 

Bingo.

Photos of the shattered window revealed a symbol of what looked to be a diamond. A dark purple circle surronded it, it looked to be drawn in paint. Kiyotaka quickly sketched it in his notebook. It was a shabby rendering but it’d work.

“-maru, Ishimaru!” The shout jolted Kiyotaka out of his intense concentration. A dirty-blond programmer, Chihiro, stood in front of his desk. He gave Kiyotaka a warm smile. “You’ve been working so hard this week, so I was wondering if, I don’t know, you’d like to go get some drinks? Like with me and some friends?”

“Hm, fine. I needed a break, otherwise I’ll likely miss something. Thank you for inviting me Chihiro-kun,” Ishimaru said, standing up. Chihiro’s face lit up. Kiyotaka had to admit he understood why the boy was so well-liked, he was adorable. 

The blond boy clapped his hand together joyously “Really? That’s awesome, Ishimaru! I think you’ll really like my friends, they are really interested in detective work and stuff!”

“Huh, alright. They sound nice enough. Sound we head out then? Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting, right?”

\--

Chihiro was right, Kiyotaka did like his friends. The boy(Kiyotaka believes his name was Shuichi) was nice enough, awkward but Kiyotaka knew he couldn’t judge that, and the other one (Kaito, he believes)was a little pushy but kind. Now if only they hadn’t gotten terribly drunk and rambunctious. Now both Chihiro and him were trying their best to rein in the drunk idiots from practically destroying the bars. Chihiro was apologizing profusely the entire time, even when the boys had gotten into the cab. They both stay talking late into the night. The pair only parted when the cozy bar closed for the night, both very intoxicated. 

Kiyotaka started his trek home, lucky that the bar wasn’t too far from his apartment. The alcohol in him suggested taking a shifty shortcut. He began walking through an alley, oblivious to anything around him. It stunk of body-odor and rotting trash, the stench was so bad he covered his nose gagging. Too drunk and engrossed with the smell, he completely missed a broad man following him. Kiyotaka continued stumbling down the alley until a hand forcefully spun him around. Kiyotaka’s jaw dropped as he beheld the purple-eyed man. Bewildered, he reached out a hand and pressed it into the man's cheek. It was warm and real. 

“So _you’re_ here,” he slurred out.

“Yeah no shit. And didn’t yer mommy say to avoid dark alleys or did your drunk ass forget?”

Kiyotaka glared and stepped away from him. “It was quicker. Didn’t your mom tell you it’s rude to scare people you don’t know like that. I don’t even know your name asshole!”

“Aww you don’t remember?” His confusion must have been obvious as he followed up with, “We met at the park. Yer the spoiled brat who stared me down. Kiyotaka Ishimaru. That’s what you told me along with some friends bullshit, and now yer investigating me. Seems like you have a little crush, huh Taka?”

Kiyotaka’s eyebrows furrowed. How did he know his name? Or his investigation? “Y-you’re a liar! How do you know that? Actually how dare you call me that? We aren’t friends!” He smirked at the smaller’s tirade. The man bent down a little and ruffled his hair. 

“Y’know, yer cute when you get mad. I’ll keep it in mind, so bye-bye _Officer_ ,” he said in a teasing tone, walking off. Kiyotaka stuck his tongue in drunken act of anger. He stormed all the way home, the weight off what just happened not yet registering. 

When he awoke the next morning, the pounding headache was the only memory of the night before.


	2. Embarrassment & Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Embarrassment seems to follow Kiyotaka and Mondo is excellent at pissing him off.

Kiyotaka’s weekend felt odd, even as he scurried around with work as usual. He brushed it off as an unfortunate side effect from the alcohol. Still, the feeling of forgetting something important lingered throughout his weekend. He could barely focus on his case for christ sake! 

It was about noon on Sunday when he threw his hands up in defeat. He needed to clear his head and try to remember what the hell he forgot. Throwing on a light coat and grabbing his keys, he set out around the block. Too focused in regaining his fuzzy memory of Friday night, he hadn’t even noticed how far he’d walk or how lost he’d gotten. It was only when glass shattered beneath his feet that his focus shattered and he began frantically looking around. _Where am I? How far did I go?,_ he thought rummaging through his pockets for his phone. Oh no Oh nonononono. He did not forget his phone in the office, right? Surely someone as organized and prepared didn’t forget a stupid cell phone. Panic began to set in as he tried retracing his steps. The sidewalk was cracked (Kiyotaka found it miraculous he didn’t trip) and littered with glass and cigeratte buds. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted thugs conversing in an alley. They caught his eye and gave a hell-freezing glare. 

So _this_ was the bad part of town.

‘ _Damn, just how far did I walk?’_ He sighed and instead beginning searching for someone, perhaps a cop or detective, who could give him directions. A scent made him nearly double-over. It was as if a skunk had been left out for dead then puked on after being in the burning sun for weeks. His nostrils burned at the terrible smell. He had always been sensitive to such stuff, often having to excuse himself from class if someone had so much as farted. Bile rose in his throat, seemingly worsening the smell. He was becoming dizzy. He stumbled around trying his best to keep his breakfast down. 

“Sir, are you okay?”

A hand wrapped around his arm, making him face the stranger. It was a cop who looked both alarmed and concerned. Kiyotaka tried to give him something, a nod or maybe even a thumbs up. But before he could even move to gesture, vomit forced its way up and he dove to the nearest trash-can. His face was burning with humiltation as he retched for what felt like hours. The cop had been patting his back the entire time, only adding to his shame. Finally, with his stomach empty and hurting and mouth dry as the Sahara, Kiyotaka looked at the cop apologetically. 

“Sir, are you okay?”

“Yes I am now, I suppose. I’m terribly sorry for this. I got lost and panicked which I supposed made me nauseous,” he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. The cop laughed and offered Kiyotaka a hand up. He finally got a solid look at the cop. He was about 3 centimeters taller with green styled hair. The cop had plenty of piercings and tattoos contrasting his sweet, calm face. The face you could ask for help with no fear. Even someone who tried to look past appearances had to admit how handsome he was. His blinding attractiveness only served to worsen Kiyotaka’s embarrassment. 

“Hey man it’s alright, do you need a ride? Actually, how did you even get lost? This isn’t really a place where people wander?” 

Kiyotaka stiffened. “I just got lost in thought. But a ride would be nice, Officer…?”

“Amami, Rantaro Amami. I’m really sorry about having to ask this, but are you, by any chance, intoxicated or impaired in any way?” His voice softened, beginning to sound something closer to a friend than a cop. Still, the accusation made him bristle. Kiyotaka knew how incriminating everything looked but even so, he’d never stumbled around drunk during the day. 

“Of course not, who in their right mind would get drunk on a Sunday?”

Rantaro gave a dip of his chin in acknowledgement, looking a little confused. In awkward silence they started walking towards his cop car. The detective trailed a little bit, inadvertenly staring at the cops body. As they got in the car and Rantaro set the GPS, he sighed. He’d be heading to his office after the longest break on his life. Even so, there was a question lingering in the air. How actually did he get so lost? By all accounts, his vague answer was confusing and mildly alarming. The silence was weighing heavy in the car, only the crackling radio and speeding cars was heard, so he conceded his story. There was just something so relaxing about the cop. 

“Huh, so you think you forgot something important. Is it about a case or something personal?” He shrugged. “Well if you can figure that out, maybe it’ll be easier to remember something.”

“Maybe. I’m pretty sure I was terribly drunk when it happened though. So it’s pretty doubtful,” Kiyotaka said, giving a small chuckle. 

“Oh, you were drunk? It’d probably be personal, then? I mean how would something on a case come up if you were shit-faced?” He nodded. The cop turned up the radio and as they listened, Kiyotaka couldn’t help but feel how the cop seemed to turn cold afterward. As if he knew something that mustn’t be said. 

\--

Thankfully, nothing else had happened that day. He was able to look through his files and cases in peace, with nearly everyone out of the office. Even in the office’s tranquil state, no progress on the case was made. They all had the same marking, but what did they mean? And besides the odd symbol, there was no trail. Like everyone else, he’d hit a dead end. A loud buzzing alert came through the phone, saving him from what was likely to be another insufferable headache. An unknown number had texted him. And addressed him by name? _‘Well, thats rather odd,’_ he thought. Did that handsome cop find him?

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Hello, Kiyotaka. I finally found you._ _1:46 pm_

  
  


_To: 829-351-7042_

_Who are you? How did you get this number?_ _1:46 pm_

 _And how do you know my name?_ _1:47 pm_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Aw did you already forgot?_ _1:48 pm_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Forgot what? Is this Rantaro?_ _1:49 pm_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_I’m afraid not._

_Damn, how drunk were you friday?_

_Maybe this’ll jog your memory._

_[selfie.jpg]_

His heart dropped. There was no way…no way he should have found this number. He had to keep talking maybe he’ll slip or maybe Kiyotaka could find the phone.

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Where’d you go?_

_Don’t think about trying to ping this phone. It’s a burner_

Well, shit.

_To: 829-351-7042_

_What are you doing contacting me?_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Well aint you a sweetheart_

_I came to inform you how much of a dumbass you are for investigating this._

_You don’t have a death wish right?_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Making death threats before I even know your name?_

_Fitting for an immoral criminal like yourself_

_Oh well, this works out well anyway_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Oh really?_

_And give me one reason I should tell you my name_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Yes, I need to assure you that I will put an end to your ‘crime ring’._

_One way or another, criminals like you will be put in jail._

_As for the name, it’s common curtesy to tell others you’re harrasing your name._

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Lmao youre pretty funny for cop_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Detective*_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Whatever_

_And my names Mondo_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Is that your real name?_

_Or are you lying like the scum you are_

_From: 829-351-7042_

_Tis what I go by, honey dearest~_

_To: 829-351-7042_

_Don’t call me that_

**_829-351-7042 has disconnected_ **

“That little-” Kiyotaka groaned. That antagonizing patronizing attitude pissed him off almost more than the stupid name he called him. As if they were friends, lovers even. The mere thought of it brought boiling rage to the pit of his stomach. The anger forced him to review every file, trying to figure out somethings. Nothing new, of course. Nothing popping out or clicking like a missing puzzle piece. It was mind-boggling how someone who looked so young could amass such a impeccable criminal empire. He would have been almost impressed at what the man, Mondo or so he claims, if it wasn’t so despicable. _Damn if only I could have been there. The moron would’ve left something behind, right?_ And if thoughts could shatter, his most definitely would. He rocketed out of his chair.

“I could.. go to the crime scenes. There must be something there..” he trailed off, lost in plans. He flipped through the most recent file. Two men shot down at a local convenience store. Broad daylight, multiple witnesses and nothing to come of it. All witnesses had wildly conflicting reports, one being bizarre enough as to claim aliens had done it. No matter what, there has to be something. Kiyotaka refused to give up, he was going to get answers and justice for all the victims of this horrible person.

He scanned the case file and- bingo. 1943 Hawthorne Brook, thankfully right next to number. He dialed quickly as humanly possible and most likely terrified the poor cashier. But he was all set to look over and talk to people for the next day. He walked home with a small smile playing on his lips. 

His promise would not fall through, he would give Mondo’s victims justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! The next one will be longer :) Please leave a comment if you have any criticisms or things I did well! I'm always up for improvement.


	3. Mysteries or Lies

Fingers tapped against his thighs. Why was luck never on his side? Out of all the days, why did the train have to be late today? His lunch break is going to be over at this point. He glanced at his watch, 12:42. Almost half way through his lunch break. He was going to be in so much trouble. Oh god why hadn’t he just asked?

_ ‘Because you’re scared he’s right, you’re signing your own death warrant’  _

His gut rolled. The words ‘Mondo’ said stayed in his head every step to the subway. He tried to rationalize that the criminal was just attempting to keep him from working on the case, but it was drowned out by images of the gunned down body, branded with the diamond symbol. A shudder worked through his yospine. 

But, those people were the reason he needed to do this. No one deserved to be so senselessly murdered, branded like pigs sent to slaughter. His nails dug into his fists. Kiyotaka's gut was still rolling with the utter vulgarity of this so-called 'Mondo'.  _ Remember the families, remember who you need to do this for.  _ The thought made him straighten his spine. It didn't matter if he got scolded when he could potentially save others and bring justice to victims' family. 

The subway finally arrived, stopping in front of him. He bordered and sat down next to someone he assumed to be a child. The ride was rather uneventful other than that odd kid staring at him. ' _ Where's this kid's parents?'  _ he thought as he uneasily glanced at the odd child. 

"Hey, uh-"

The door opened and the kid silently walked off. His eyes followed the kid,as he turned he caught sight of another shifty figure. Perhaps it was his more… alternative style or his quiet observing demeanor but his entire aura was almost disturbing. The subway was just starting up but the green haired man turned around to stare at Kiyotaka. His heart dropped, because on his neck he swore he saw the godforsaken mark tattooed. 

The subway sped off and Kiyotaka was wondering if this was much bigger than he thought.

\--

The gas station was a lot more happy than he expected. It wasn't busy per se but everyone there was buzzing along as if everything was alright. The door announced his presence as he entered. 

"Hello, I'm looking for the owner? He said he would meet me here to answer some questions for a case." The cashier smiled but it didn't reach their eyes. They shuffled to the back, where muffled conversation flowed out. Finally a slim, short man with auburn hair and dark hidden eyes. Kiyotaka reached out his hand with a respectful greeting, happy he might get at least a bread crumb. A look of disgust briefly passed the auburns face, though he fortunately returned his greeting. The man gestured outside brushing past his hand.

“Come on, it's rather stuffy in here.” The owner's cold demeanor was nothing like who he spoke to. He spoke coarsely and walked rigidly. His voice was deeper in person and the stutter he had somehow disappeared. Kiyotaka brushed his hand against his firearm, something felt off. But the man had turned around prompting the interview into motion.

“You were the cashier at the time of the shooting correct?”

“Yes, I heard the shots while I was running the register and rushed out.”

_ Perfect, _ he thought. “Did you see anyone fleeing the scene or anyone suspicious? Anything you can remember will help,” Kiyotaka offered. The owner, who had finally introduced himself as Hiro, shifted on his feet. His arms crossed and he looked away.

“I-I don’t know. I was, well I ran inside to call the cops. Didn’t really have the time to look around with a dead body-” Hiro scratched his neck, “-I mean, I- I think I saw a car?” The owner ran a hand over his face. A flash of a tattoo was shown on the back of his arm. Kiyotaka was too busy reveling at this breadcrumb. 

“Did you happen t-to catch the make or color? Maybe the license plate?” Hiro still wouldn't meet his eyes but he seemed to have loosened up. 

“I’m afraid not Detective,” the man said, finally meeting his eyes. Kiyotaka felt his shoulder slump at the news.

“And you were the only witness at the scene correct?” The answering nod only made his hope sag more.

“Actually I remember there was a customer, but he left pretty quick. I think his name is Yasuhiro Hagakure? Something like that,” the owner rushed out. Kiyotaka was a little taken aback at his change. Hesitantly, he wrote down the name. 

“Thank you for talking to-”

“You’re welcome, if we’re done here I have a business to run.”

And with that, the short interview was over, only giving Kiyotaka more questions.

\--

He sifted through old files hopelessly. There was too much history, too many unknowns to get a picture. Kiyotaka prided himself on his preservation and determination but maybe this was too much for him. He slumped on his chair, groaning heavily. He was so, so tired. Kiyotaka had been trying to contact anyone related to victims of unresolved shootings, or old robberies. None of the stories seemed similar besides the diamond mark. It appeared everywhere and even though every witness described someone different walking away from the crime scene, they all shared similar M.O’s. All shootings left little evidence, not a shell casing or bullet. Oddly enough most were during the day, but well hidden from the public eye. The gas station was the most open they had seen from the gang. 

At least, there was acknowledgement of the gang. He was assigned these cases after his tardy at work. The chief was condescending but granted it. Although Kiyotaka had to promise not to slip in other areas of his work, at least it was something.  _ Only 3 files left to check, then you can go home, _ he thought tiredly. He pushed through those last files, his eyes heavy. A clock chimed 12 as he finally finished. He clocked out, breath a sigh of relief that he could at last sleep. He trudged home, every step aching. The exhaustion creeped down his bones.

After what felt like an hour of walking on pins, he opened his door and collapsed on his bed. He was so caught up in bliss, he completely forgot to lock his apartment door. So he snuggled into his cozy bed, unaware of the danger he put himself in.

\--

His blissful sleep was interrupted by the most evil noise imaginable, an alarm clock’s buzzing. Groaning, he sat up with his back popping like firecrackers.  _ I’ll need to get out more,  _ he thought, wincing. Groggily, he went about his morning. Despite his late night he had not overslept (he thanked the gods for that small win). The warm shower woke him up plenty, and he, albeit still sluggish, celebrated his gain on getting the case. It was already hard work but at least it was recognized as work. He hummed the rather catchy song he heard from the cop, turning into the kitchen. 

There was food out. Not only food but crumbs and dirty cups with still cold water. Thought frantically swarmed his head. How did they enter? Why didn't they hurt him? In his panic he saw a note pinned to the fridge.

_ Poor poor detective. You’d think a big bad officer would have the sense to lock his door. Hope you don't mind the mess. _

_ Oh so sincerely _

  
  


It was signed with the diamond mark left on the victims. He could feel his chest cave. It was as if a boulder smashed into him. He never knew… How was he so stupid? Those filthy criminal sat in this very room and ate his food. He clenched his fist, crumpling the pathetic note. Even through his anger that one fearful thought shot through.

They now knew where he lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not me updating after like three month depression writers block


	4. Fear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiyotaka struggles with the fear of his recent encounter, only to run into the wicked leader again. Dealing with his conflicting feelings and values may be harder than he had hoped

The fear followed him around throughout his day, wondering how they had found him. He may be bull-headed and stubborn, especially when it comes to cases, but it didn't mean he was completely irrational. He hadn’t exactly pictured how  _ much _ danger he was in. Sure, he threotically knew it, but it hadn’t quite set in for him that he was a target. A target for a violent organized gang. An image of his broken body branded with a diamond flashed through his head. His vacant eyes and the blood soaked clothes he had seen on the victims both horrified and enraged him. It was too late to back down. Even if he could he didn't want to. The backbone of masculinity is perseverance. If he gave up, how would he even be able to call himself a man!

“Hey Kiyotaka!”

He startled, looking up at the small forensic. Chihiro had a sweet smile, a smile that made the frazzled detective forget his fears for a brief moment. He greeted the smaller boy and noticed how dark his under eyes have gotten. 

“Chihiro-kun have you been sleeping well? You look exhausted,” he said, concern shining through his face. Chihiro ran a hand over his face jokingly, laughing slightly and rolling his eyes. He nodded, blaming it on the recent spike of murders. It was a nice reprieve from the stress as they chatted and joked on their way to getting coffee.

“Ah, well I guess I should get going to the lab! Peace Taka!” Taka gave the smaller a wave as he walked off, ignoring his slightly pink cheeks.  _ ‘Chihiro-kun is uh rather cute,’ _ he thought, sitting back down. The feeling of bliss was shattered as he faced the enormous pile of paperwork.Filing for permits, warrants, or anything related to the gang. He had always taken up a lot, so this hardly fazed him. Perhaps another late night.

Even as he slaved over the paperwork, his heart dropped every time he remembered his stupidity. ‘ _ Fucking pigs, _ ’ he thought, as he skimmed a unsolved case file. It was a clean, almost execution style, murder. The victim was a rather well-known druggie, but even so, his death shattered the fragile community. That hardly mattered to Kiyotaka, he couldn’t help that until he caught the so-called ‘Mondo’. What mattered the most to him, was the disgusting brand on the neck. Autopsy showed it was anti-mortem. Placebo burnt flesh pained his nostrils as he looked at the revolting mark. It was the signature diamond, although on the flesh it had burned off it was a red instead of his typical black or purple. 

His stomach churned at the image of it being him, thrashing away from a hot brand, helpless. His hands shook and he got up, trying not to draw too much attention as he rushed to the bathroom. Bile burned his throat and tears pooled. Hunched over the sink, bile and the few bites of apple he had forced its way out of his stomach. He was hardly ever sick, much less over something like photos. Yet, here he was, hands burning against the cool sink. They were shaking and clinging desperately to the porcelain. 

“Hey uh is anyone- Oh my god Taka are you alright?” Chihiro’s exclaimintion had Kiyotaka jumping away from the sink. He quickly turned on the water, determined not to show any signs of weakness. Chihiros concern seemed to ebb slightly when he forced a smile, explaining his illness on bad food from this morning.

“It’s really nothing Chi, I swear!”

“Are you sure? You know you push yourself too far sometimes,” Chihiro warned, pressing a soft, almost girly hand to his forehead. His cheeks burned at the cute forensics contact, and he was saddened by the loss of warmth.

“No fever, but maybe take it a bit easier today! No staying late again-” He held out his pinky, “-Swear on it! Promise me you won’t.”His slight pout was too adorable for Kiyotaka to say no and they linked pinkies. They exited the bathroom together and Chihiro had once again proved how much he could improve Kiyotaka’s day.

As he sat back down, the photos seemed a little less graphic.

\--

A man of his word, Kiyotaka clocked out at 7. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful orange hue on everything. He was usually working too late to see the sun set, so he decided to let himself enjoy this. His favorite spot as a child was nearby, and nostalgia knocked out his sense.  _ ‘I’ll only be there for a bit, who knows when I’ll be able to see this again,’ _ he thought longingly. And thus he set out on his small nostalgic adventure. The smell of wood chips and plastic filled the air, and he sat on the swing.

“God, I missed it here.”

The silence wrapped around him like a blanket, protecting and shielding him from the fears and stress of cases. The illusion was shattered as a memory popped up. That gaunt kid, bloodied now, exhausted and holding a knife in the alley. He was too curious, reaching out to him. Young Kiyotaka wanted to help. The boy only glimpsed at him before running away.

Startling out of his daydream, he was out of the swing hand stretching out to the image of Mondo. Except it wasn’t his younger counterpart, it was him. Smiling deviously, Mondo raised an eyebrow flirtingly. 

“Aw did ya miss me?” His sarcasm was enough for even the tone-deaf Kiyotaka to recognize. He jumped back, instinctively reaching towards his knife. Already calculating how he could best take down his opponent, despite his larger frame.

“How the hell-”

“Did I find ya’? Pretty easy Taka, yer fucking loud as shit,” Mondo laughed out. He stepped towards the smaller, mockingly crouching down to infuriate the detective. 

“G-go away-” he tried to step back but felt a hand on his, “-Let. Go. Of . Me. I’m not your fucking pet. And frankly I should take you in right now.” He ripped his hand out of his grip. The knife glinted from the last sun rays. Mondo was surprised but quickly recovered. 

“Wouldn’t’ve guessed, with ya snooping through my life. Ya must think yer super slick but remember, I have eyes and ear everywhere.” His voice dropped that last sentence, sending chills up the detectives spine. After a second of intense eye contact from the criminal, Mondo smirked and stood to his full height. He was only a few inches taller although he acted as if it was a foot. 

“Besides, ya have no evidence right? Besides yer stupid  _ hunch, _ ” he said as he walked away and out of Kiyotakas view. It had gotten dark, and rather cold.  _ What the hell was that,  _ he thought, shivering. Surely, Mondo could’ve killed him. After all, what criminal wasn’t completely impulsive and armed. He began his trek home, swearing this day couldn’t have been more weird.

\--

The sun was barely up when he was back out the door. He had packed medicine just in case his head or stomach began acting up. Yesterday was too close of a call. Way too close. He had barely been 3 inches from the violent thug. His knuckles turned white at the memory. How dare someone so disgusting  _ flirt _ with him. And mock him for his stature. How had he known he was so-called snooping (he preferred investigating) was infinitely more pressing of a matter. Perhaps those he interviewed had been contacted or threatened.

Shaking his head as if to clear his overfilled mind, he clocked in. Exchanging pleasantries with co-workers, he prepared himself for the day ahead. 

_ Interview with vic’s wife at 2  _ was the thing that replayed in his mind as he sifted through files. If the victim had any ties to gangs or drug rings, it might be a huge step forward to arresting the filthy pig called Mondo. This thought apparently didn’t reach his brain.  _ I’d hardly call him filthy, with those muscles.  _ He scolded himself for having such thoughts.  _ What? You know I’m right. He may be a criminal but damn it all if he isn’t attractive. Pretty eyes, nice lips-  _ No he refused to think about that. Or about how soft they looked, how kissable-

“Dammit, I need some air,” he mumbled, feeling his face flush.  _ Stupid homo,  _ he thought, almost laughing at how stupid he was being. Whether Mondo was attractive or no wasn’t the issue, it was his attitude, his actions that defined him as filthy. The sky thundered in response, as if knowing Kiyotaka was lying.

That, even if he hated to admit it, he was attracted to a murderer.


	5. Chapter 5

The day dragged on and his feelings just felt more confusing. He had been taught to like pure-breds, those who can help rebuild his name. Someone like that could hardly help, especially as a male. Homosexuality had taken great bounds in acceptance but the prejudice was still there. He already had to defeat that, but with a gang leader. His entire family would be ruined. Everything he built would be destroyed over his stupid emotions. His phone buzzed, alerting him of the interview. Frankly he would hardly be useful in an interview with his brain filled with conflict. But a man whose word cannot be trusted is not a man at all.

To the subway again, he supposed.

\--

As he sat on the bumpy ride, he remembered the small purple haired boy. His eyes were so different from his stature, tired and devilish. Despite his mischievous eyes, Kiyotaka truly hoped he was alright. The man he had met up with looked terrifying, perhaps dangerous. His thoughts drifted from that strange kid and towards the gray walls flying by. The image of the victim came to mind as they sped past an odd stain. Though it made his stomach churn again it was a perfect reminder. 'Give him justice. Give all the victims justice' he thought. Justice felt like the only viable thing to separate him from Mondo. And those.. dirty thoughts. Blood rushed to his face as he thought about it. How vile he was, how dirty. He ran a hand over his warmed face, trying to think back to questions. He needed to be organized, not this embarrassed frenzied mess. 

“Connections to,” he mumbled, trying to cement everything. The subway doors opened to his stop, so he walked out still mumbling. He surely looked like a mad man, with his mumbling of gangs, and murder. As he exited the station, he remembered the day he had gotten lost in this part of town and the handsome cop he had met. ‘It would be nice to run into him again,’ he thought. Fiddling with his phone, he suddenly wished he had gotten the cops number. As luck would have it, a familiar green haired officer waved.

“Hey, Kiyotaka right?” The detective smiled and nodded quickly walking over. Rantaro was apparently off-duty, dressed in casual clothes only amplifying his handsomeness. Rantaro gave Kiyotaka a soft smile. He had gotten a new ear piercing and perhaps a new tattoo.

"Changing your style a bit huh? The earrings suit you," he complimented, pointing a finger to his ear. Rantaro touched the jangly earring and blushed a bit. He laughed it off, confirming the change. 

"Didn't think you'd notice! But, how's the case going? Anything new?"

"I have some new evidence," he lied, "I'm actually heading towards an interview with a spouse of one of the victims." Rantaro gave him an odd look, as if knowing that he was lying.

"Is it classified or something?" Damn, Rantaro was good. He continued staring at Kiyotaka inquiztivetly, waiting for an answer.  
"Ah- yes, I'm sorry," he fumbled with his words, working up the courage to ask. "Hey, uh before I head out do you mind giving me your number? You know I just need some more officer frie-"

"Oh sure no problem, just let me know your number when you text!" Rantaro grabbed his phone, inputting his number and a green heart next to his name. Kiyotaka flushed as he saw that. 'Is-is he flirting?,' he thought. He again scolded himself as they said goodbyes. There was no way someone like Rantaro would do that, he was clearly just laid-back. Perhaps a friendly gesture. And though Kiyotaka's heart was beating too quick, he shut out the thoughts.

\--

The grieving wife welcomed him. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy, but it was clear she was at least once beautiful. As she sat down in the chair, just a few feet from the execution of her husband, she seemingly withered. She stared at a deep blotch of wood, stained with blood. The youth in her face disappeared and her eyes held the pain of someone who was far older. 

"First off, I am so sorry for your loss. We will catch your husband's killer, I swear it," he said softly, trying to be a little less intrusive. ", Unfortunately, I'll need your help. Please answer the questions as honestly as possible."

"O-of course," she sniffled, " would you like a cup of tea?" The kettle screamed in response and Kiyotaka politely declined. She got up quickly, stopping briefly at the stain. He looked at her sympathetically as she walked off. She assembled her tea cup, fumbling through tears. Spilt sugar laid in mounds as she walked away with the steaming cup. Wiping her tears away, the poor wife sat up signalling she was ready. He cleared his throat, trying to be laid back for her.

"First off, was there anyone who would wish to hurt your husband? Any grudges or debts," he asked. Anger flared in her eyes and her hands shook causing the tea to spill over her lap. She hardly noticed as she stared Kiyotaka down.

"You think he would ever deserve this! He was killed like a fucking dog! Why are you asking if he set that fucking gang off instead of-" She clasped a hand over her mouth, "-I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to explode like that."

"What do you mean? He had connections to a gang? Can you tell me what or who?" She shook her head violently. "Please it'd be a great help in this case, and will place you into protective custody." He leaned forward, heart pounding. Despite his urge to keep her feeling comfortable, it was a gem of information. She again shook her head, tears falling like rain over a forest. 

"No- just, please just go. I-I'm sorry," she sobbed out. Standing up shakily she quickly ushered him out, slamming the door right in his face. For a few minutes, he just stood there shell-shocked. It was so close yet in a matter of seconds, he felt a thousand feet farther away,

So he slunked back to work and his heart was twisting.

\--

Nothing else productive came of the day. Mindless filing, more mindless small talk. Yet none of it quenched his thought, mulling over how eventful yet worthless this week had been. He had literally seen Mondo but he was still stuck in the same place.

Well maybe not completely.

He had confirmation that these cases were linked together. It wasn't enough however for the high reaching detective. He needed more. He fumbled his keys, praying for a quiet night. But someone grabbed his hands. He flinched, almost stabbing them with the keys before recognizing who had grabbed him.

"Don't scare me like that! I could have hurt you," he exclaimed to Rantaro. Too excited to really question how he had found him, he invited him to join him. His previous plans of a quiet night quickly vanished. His heart beat against his ribs excitedly, this was the first time in a while he had true company.

"Thanks for letting me in dude! Sorry I was just bored so figured I'd come say hi," Rantaro said laughing. 'He looks really pretty like this,' he thought, watching Rantaro look around. He had changed into tight pants, accentuating his lean but muscular frame. It contrasted his loose purple shirt, showing off his collar-bone and the shade complimented his light green hair, overall adding to his relaxed beauty. As if he never needed to try to be gorgeous. Rantaro noticed his staring and winked, sending a flush up Kiyotaka's face. 

"Ah, have you eaten yet? I could heat up some food, I was about to eat when I ran into you." His voice cracked and was so incredibly awkward that he had to take a moment to process Rantaro's yes. He gave a pleasant yet awkward smile and got the leftover he had planned for tonight. Luckily there was extra, for which he had planned for lunch tomorrow, and just enough for the both of them. As they waited, the silence grew from comfortable to estranged. Rantaro had been quiet as soon as he sat down, barely looking at the host instead opting for the movies Kiyotaka had collected. After the grandfather incident, he was rarely able to have DVDs so he collected as many as possible as an adult.

"Do you wish to watch something? I am rather proud of my collection so you have plenty of options," he offered. Rantaro's head shot up and for a brief moment the laid-back, kind-hearted cop he knew was gone, replaced by someone much colder. It had hardly lasted a second so he brushed it off to merely being startled. Rantaro accepted graciously, inputting one of Kiyotaka's favorites. 

"How the hell are you single-handedly saving the DVD industry," Rantaro jokes, "I mean pretty much no one uses them anymore." 

"I like to think of them as little time-capsules. I never had many growing up so DVDs were a must when I could afford them." His comment was light-hearted but it unfortunately brought the atmosphere down. The microwave dinged and dinner was served, thankfully breaking the cold feeling in the air. They were pretty quiet, only the dinging of silverware on the plates.

"Taka, you have something on your face," Rantaro commented, almost absent-mindedly wiping it off. Kiyotaka flushed again both at the gesture and pet name, but Rantaro noticed this time. Placing his hand on the table, he brought his face to the blushing detective's. He stared down at his lips, before connecting them passionately. To be completely honest, it was his first real kiss. Rantaro forced a tongue down his mouth, gripping his chin tightly. Then, all too soon, he pulled away. Without another word, he left. Kiyotaka stared at the space he had left. His hand brushed his lips, what the hell happened? He had just kissed a handsome officer only for him to leave? He finished his food and cleaned up, still thoroughly confused. 

Rantaro had done his job, and well. Kiyotaka was too thrown off to notice the missing notebook, filled with information from spouses and victims. Or the small mark by his door. And one, all too familiar. 

A perfectly shaped diamond, deep purple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might not be able to update for a while. my life is pretty much falling apart lmao

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter! This is going to be my first lengthy story so please forgive any mistakes!! (Also plan to update in the next two weeks or so!)


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